The Coveted Virtue of Hope

 

Hope has always felt like something just beyond my grasp—like a distant star I can see but never quite reach. I want it. I crave it. I covet it. But more often than not, it slips through my fingers, leaving me in the dark, clutching at shadows.

And the hard truth? I rarely feel worthy of hope. It’s not that I don’t know what it looks like—I've seen it in others, glowing quietly in their eyes, pulling them forward. But for me, it flickers only when I feel like I matter. When someone sees me, values me, chooses to stay.

That doesn’t happen often. Or maybe it does and I just struggle to believe it.

I know this might make me sound dependent or needy—words I’ve spent years trying to
run from. But I’m not writing this to convince you of my strength. I’m writing this because I need something that I can’t create alone. I need someone. Maybe not forever. But someone—anyone—who is willing to show up, even briefly, and remind me that I matter.

Because even fleeting moments of worth can echo louder and longer than the silence of being alone.

This isn’t a cry for attention—it’s a quiet, honest plea for connection. Not from any one specific person, but from the people in my life who might read this and feel something stir. If that’s you, then maybe this is for you.

I wish I could say I’m strong on my own. But I’m not. Not always. I’m extroverted, yes—but it’s more than that. I don’t just enjoy people. I need people. I find my worth through their eyes, through their presence, through knowing that someone wants me around. And I hate that, sometimes. I wish I could fix it. But right now, I just need to be honest about it.

So I’m saying this to whoever is meant to hear it: Please don’t let me go. Don’t assume I’ll be fine if you back away. Sometimes, the smallest gesture can keep me afloat. Even if it’s not forever.

This is me, reaching out—because I still believe in the possibility of being held through the storm, even when I don’t believe in much else.

So I’ll say it again, not for drama, but for truth: I covet the virtue of hope. And I’m asking—can you help me find it?